


Celtic knots and beads

by DraniKitty



Series: Short stories from the Garbage Court [14]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Old selkie traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 06:36:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5118767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraniKitty/pseuds/DraniKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a bit of UMY fanart and headcanon that came up on my dash today, about our favorite selkie and some old traditions he holds on to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Celtic knots and beads

As the sun filtered through the leaves, some of the last warmth before autumn set in, the entirety of the core of the Garbage Court relaxed under a large tree in the park. There was little reason, really, besides the knowledge that soon they would be unable to do such a simple thing when the temperatures dropped and rain and snow bit at the skin with a painful chill. The air was filled with the sound of children at play with their friends and families off in the distance, and birds dancing about in the branches above. Somewhere in the park, a dog barked.

At some point, Will had noticed a glint at Trott's wrist, finding himself captivated by it and staring. Three bands of leather, different shades and different ages, sat along his left arm. What had to be the oldest was the furthest up his arm, woven into intricate knots that made him think of every cheesy representation of the northern parts of the Isles. Green beads, delicate and shimmering, sat between each intricate knot.

The next was far less complex, decorated only by a single glass bead, a familiar shade of blue. The pattern of woven leather was simple, almost practical, in nature, but still held a beauty to how it all moved together.

The last was... He could only call it kitschy and gaudy, yet still right at home with the other two, made up of various beads of plastic, glass, clay, a single tiny maple leaf charm, bits of metal... It was a hodge-podge, really.

"Are you having fun staring?"

Will gave a start, eyes snapping up to honey-brown. "Oh, um... I was just admiring your bracelets."

Trott let out a chuckle, lifting his arm to look at them himself. None of the other three looked up, Smith and Ross having fallen asleep laying in the sun-dappled grass while Sips leaned back against the tree trunk, eyes closed. "Old selkie tradition. One of the few things I took with me to the moores and kept on doing." He turned them gently, as if they might break.

He shifted, leaning closer to admire them better. "Can I... Can I ask about it?" He glanced up, chewing his lip slightly. "If it's not a problem."

He waved his right hand. "You're fine, sunshine." He shifted closer, holding his left arm up so Will could better look at the bands. "We weave wristbands to show we're connected to somebody." He inclined his head, just slightly. "One for Smith, one for Ross, one for Sips." He pointed to each one as he named them off, with their distinctive patterns and beads.

"They're beautiful..." Even the one for Sips, with its mix and match nature. It seemed appropriate, given how mix and match Sips appeared to the world. He reached out to touch them, then hesitated.

"You can touch them, they won't break." He grinned, just slightly. "And if they break, I can fix them."

As he ran his fingers over the leather and beads, he couldn't help feeling mesmerized. "They're all a bit like the people they're of, aren't they?"

The grin only seemed to grow. "They are, yes."

"I'm a bit confused by Smith's, though." He glanced over at the sleeping kelpie. "He doesn't seem the Celtic knot type." He couldn't recall ever seeing him wear anything even remotely Celtic.

"Not so much because he's the type, but where he's from." He ran a thumb over one of the knots, smiling. "He's from the moores up in Scotland. His nan helped me pick a design with some meaning and taught me how to make the particular weave."

Will let out a sound of acknowledgement, nodding. "That was nice of her."

"Considering she wanted to eat me despite being ocean fae when she met me, it was like being told I was now one of their own." Trott's eyebrow went up at the look of surprise he got in return. "Kelpies, while not typically ones to form groups, are fiercely loyal to and protective of their own. When they DO form groups, either it's close family such as Smith's nan, mum, and a couple aunts, or it's other kelpies during good times. They don't usually associate with others."

He shifted, pulling his knees up to hug them and rest his chin on them, watching the families playing down the hill from them. "So what made you different?" It was a thought and question born out of curiosity, really, that age-old human nature getting the best of him.

Placing his hands behind him in the grass, Trott stretched his legs out and leaned back, stretching with a slight groan. When he settled, his gaze fell to the families, as well. "Well first Smith wouldn't let his nan touch me. But I suppose... She saw how happy I made him, and that, despite how different we are, we were and are still friends."

More questions bubbled in his mind, but they were shoved aside. A glance at Smith and Ross only proved to elicit a temptation in him, and Will was soon flopped back in the grass, arms stretched over his head. There was a rustle next to him, but he didn't look up. There was no need, he knew from the sounds that Trott, too, had laid out, enjoying the dappled gold and green warmth of the sun through the trees. They remained in silence, just about drifting off, before Will looked over, fighting the pull of sleep. "Hey, Trott..."

"Yes, sunshine?" He didn't open his eyes, hands folded on his chest.

"Where did the bead for the one of Ross come from?" The question had only just come to him.

There was silence, for a moment making Will wonder if Trott was asleep. Finally, he gave a little wave of his hand. "I'll tell you some other time."

"Al-" A yawn cut the word off. "Alright." Settling down, he was soon asleep, enjoying the peace of the afternoon.

A few months later, with snow covering the city, Will noticed a new bracelet on Trott's wrist, nestled between the ones for Sips and Ross, made of a dark leather with a single crimson bead in it.


End file.
